


a million twinkling lights

by Meridas



Series: warm, unalone (come settle down) [7]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Comfort, Demisexual Mollymauk Tealeaf, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Genderfluid Mollymauk Tealeaf, Other, Queerplatonic Molly/Yasha, Slice of Life, background Yasha & Molly qpp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:02:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27679142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meridas/pseuds/Meridas
Summary: A sleepless night becomes a slow day, then a welcome distraction, and then something more.
Relationships: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast
Series: warm, unalone (come settle down) [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607398
Comments: 11
Kudos: 77





	a million twinkling lights

**Author's Note:**

> Since I've been sort of skipping around along a timeline as I write these installments, I just want to note here in the beginning that Molly and Yasha are in an established queerplatonic relationship where they have already discussed having other partners as well! Yasha is very aware that Molly has had a crush on Caleb for a while and she likes to tease him for it when he gets tongue-tied. Also, this seems like the right fic to mention that in this au, Molly identifies as demi as well as bi, because this is my most self-indulgent au and it's full of things that make me happy ✌️
> 
> Thank you, as always, to steelneena for the beta and support <3 
> 
> Title of this fic comes from Twinkling Lights by Annalise Emerick, which I listened to on repeat while writing this.

It's a slow day at the Carnival of Curiosities, but it's the kind of day that makes Molly grateful instead of bored. After a night of fitful sleep and an unpleasantly quiet morning alone in the apartment, the most Molly has accomplished is a half-hearted haggle about a set of silverware with a half-elven woman. She and the toddler on her hip both seemed delightfully charming, if only Molly was in a place for an engaging afternoon of conversation and bartering to increasingly strange tallies. He hasn't even had the heart to redo their chalk sign outside with anything particularly foolish or clever today. 

Molly picks up his phone, stares at it for a moment, and then sighs and puts it back down. In the months since they split from the carnival and ended up in Zadash, he's come to realize a few things about himself. Currently the truth plaguing him is that Yashas must be allowed to Yasha, but Mollymauks don't do as well with loneliness as he might pretend. He'd assumed that because he always did fine before, now wouldn't be any different. But before he had the whole circus around him, and now their apartment is very quiet without her.

But he's doing fine. She's never gone for all that long, and she sends him pictures of flowers or animals or particularly nice scenic views when she gets the chance. These trips are important to her, and he's always happy to be where she comes home to. 

Still, he wishes he'd slept better last night.

Molly lets out a deep sigh and drops his head onto his crossed arms. Resting his head for just a moment surely won't hurt—fuck it, what's anyone going to do, _steal_ something? Out of _this_ shop? Molly snorts to himself. 

The sleeves of Yasha's pullover are very soft, nice and fleecy. The dark, thick fabric she favors is perfect for blocking out the light in the shop if he tucks his face into his elbow. This is why he steals her sweaters all the time, truly, and if she doesn't pack them on her trips then she's basically giving him free reign to borrow them at his leisure until she gets back. Gods, it's nice to shut his eyes for a moment. Who knew his jewelry counter was so comfortable… 

Someone clears their throat softly. Molly shoots upright so quickly he almost falls off his stool. 

Caleb peers at him with mingled amusement and concern, holding two paper cups in his hands. " _Guten morgen_ , Mollymauk."

"And some very gluten almonds to you, too, Mister Caleb." Molly hops off his stool with all the grace and nonchalance he can muster. Admittedly, today that's not a lot. But he soldiers on to the door, flips the store's sign to _closed_ and locks it with a relieved sigh. He aims a smile at Caleb as he goes back to him and gratefully takes the offered drink. “I’m glad you’re here, gives me an excuse to close up for a bit. Plus it’s always nice to see your face; it's a nice face.”

Caleb looks him over with concern, only a small flush dusting his cheeks at the compliment. "Are you alright, Mollymauk? You seem out of sorts."

"Mm. Yeah, I'm okay." Molly rubs the heel of his hand against his eye, then immediately remembers he put on eyeshadow this morning. He sighs at the smears of gold powder on his palm, then musters a smile for Caleb. "I think I'm just tired. I never sleep as well when Yasha's off on one of her trips, I might call it an early day here."

Caleb nods his head a few times, fidgeting with the ends of his slightly frayed sleeves. "Would you like company?" he asks, a little rushed as though he has to say the words before he second-guesses himself. Molly feels his heart warm, his smile grow a little easier. "Or, um, if you had plans I can go, but do you… you look like you could use a hug?"

Molly sets his tea down on the counter and steps closer to Caleb, tail beginning to swish happily with a bit more energy. "Can I have both?"

Caleb’s nervous fingers relax, and he lets out a small breath of a laugh. “Of course, Molly,” he says, and opens up his arms.

Molly wastes no time pitching himself into the offered hug. Caleb makes a little “ _oof_ ” as Molly collides with him, and then his arms come up and wrap around him securely. He’s so warm, and he may be skinny but he lets Molly lean on him and close his eyes and soak in the wonderful, irreplaceable comfort of being held. Caleb’s coat collar is fuzzy and soft. Molly tucks his face into it and breathes. 

He has no idea how long they stay like that. Time slips by without the need to fill the quiet. Molly finds himself swaying slightly to the rhythm of half a song stuck in his head, and Caleb follows his movement easy as anything. The slow rise and fall of Caleb’s chest is a soothing pattern to match his breathing to. He doesn’t have to do anything but hold on in return. The biggest change either of them makes is when Caleb lifts one hand and begins to stroke gently over Molly’s hair, over and over. It takes a long moment before Molly even notices that he’s started purring quietly into Caleb’s collar, but he wouldn’t do a thing to try to stop. 

Eventually they do pull apart, but only because Caleb’s stomach growls loudly enough to shatter the quiet of the shop, and Molly can’t help but burst out laughing. He draws back to look fondly into Caleb’s face, flushing a bit with embarrassment but smiling nonetheless. “Why don’t you come home with me?” he asks. If there’s a name for the way he feels, somewhere between soft and bold and wanting nothing more than to sit with Caleb in that comfortable quiet, he doesn’t know it. “We can grab lunch on the way, you pick."

"How about you pick the food and I will choose a film?" Caleb offers, and for a moment Molly can't believe he hasn't kissed this man yet. But he tucks that feeling back, safe inside his heart for the time being, and smiles as he takes Caleb’s hands in his. 

"Sounds good to me."

To Molly’s delight, Caleb keeps holding his hand as they stop by one of his regular lunch spots, a tiny shop where the menu changes nearly every day and the halfling behind the counter always laughs like it's a challenge when Molly invariably says "surprise me." He keeps holding his hand on the walk back to Molly and Yasha's apartment, and Molly almost misses their turn as he listens to Caleb ramble about cats and the way they communicate with humanoids compared to the way they speak when addressed through magical communication. He can't keep the smile from tugging at his mouth—although he's sure he looks unmistakably smitten, this time he can't bring himself to care. 

Caleb doesn't seem to notice; rather, he stops mid-sentence as Molly tugs on his hand outside his door. "Ah. I seem to have been going on… my apologies, Mollymauk, I got carried away."

"I like listening to you talk," Molly says simply, and this time he lets himself lean in and brush a quick kiss against Caleb’s cheek. "You're very cute when you're excited about something, you know? C'mon, come inside and tell me more about your cat." 

Caleb’s ears are very deep pink. Molly’s tail swishes happily as he unlocks his door.

The apartment is chilly when they step inside. Molly wrinkles up his nose and makes his way to the thermostat first. “Make yourself comfortable,” he offers to Caleb, kicking off his ankle boots and nudging them under the side table.

Caleb takes him up on it, and it makes some part of Molly very happy to see Caleb here in his space. His coat looks nice hanging up next to Molly’s by the door. As they settle down on the sofa and spread out their bounty of lunch on the coffee table, it feels… nice. Normal and comfortable in a way that Molly really hopes he’s not the only one feeling. Like maybe this is something that could happen again—maybe Caleb could become part of Molly’s life outside his visits to the shop, maybe more frequently.

Maybe even permanently. That thought feels a little too big for Molly, still. He’s still getting used to the idea that some things might last. But it’s a thought that he tucks carefully to the side in his mind—not all the way gone, just aside. Just for now. 

“I like it here,” Caleb says, almost shyly, as if he’s not sure that he’s welcome to make judgements on Molly’s home, as if Molly’s heart doesn’t leap at the idea of Caleb being comfortable here with him. “It is, well your sense of décor is unique—” Molly barks a laugh— “but it’s nice. It is very… you.” 

He hesitates. “Do you mind if… you don’t have to answer, of course, but you said that you did not sleep well last night, and, well, I have a bit more experience in that regard than I would like. But if there is anything I can do to help… would you like to talk about it? Are you alright, here?”

“Oh, it’s nothing like that, I like it here. It’s been perfectly safe and everything since we moved in, it’s just…” Molly sighs. “Well, sometimes it’s just plain insomnia, that comes with the ADHD.” He worries at his lip for a moment. His natural inclination is to shove all his uncomfortable truths into a box and sit on it, to keep showing off the good parts of himself that he likes, whether they’re bullshit or true. But this is Caleb. They’re getting close, and Molly would like very much to be even closer, in a way that he can’t remember ever really feeling before. His heart speeds up around Caleb, and he gets this feeling in his stomach that’s exciting and worrying at the same time. There’s a part of him that whispers that Caleb could be as important to him as Yasha, with only a little more room to grow, a little bit of trust and truth to flourish in.

So he tells the truth. “I get nightmares,” he says quietly. “There’s a lot… that I don’t remember, but it feels more important than I’d like sometimes. I mean, everyone has dreams of scary nonsense, right, I get those too. Chased by bees, late for a show, having to be in a government building where everything is _beige_ —”

“Most people would be naked in front of a classroom, but I doubt that is one of your insecurities,” Caleb butts in, and Molly’s laugh cracks out of him unbidden and welcome. He grins at Caleb, charmed by the pleased twinkle in those blue eyes even as Caleb tries to hide his smile. 

“Not so much that one, no.” Molly only notices that his tail has wrapped around Caleb’s leg, not his own, when he sees Caleb jump. But instead of freezing up or pushing him away, he rests one warm hand gently across his tail. Molly swallows hard, unexpectedly overwhelmed by the comfort he takes from the gesture. “When I’m here alone, they’re worse,” he confesses. “It’s… the ones that really fuck me up are the ones where I’m left alone. I know other people are out there, I know they can see me, but they always look right past me. And I’m… this is fuzzier, when I wake up, but there’s always something _wrong_ with me, and no one ever helps. They just pretend I’m not there until I panic hard enough to wake myself up,” he finishes with a sharp, humorless laugh. Caleb’s hand is warm and steady. Molly ruffles his fingers through his hair, blinking hard. “Yasha always answers if I call her, but it’s not the same.”

“I can understand why you don’t get much sleep after something like that,” Caleb said softly. Molly lifts his head, and smiles for him. 

“It’s not so bad once I get back out among other people,” he says, sliding back into carelessness like a comfortable old coat. “I go out and have a fancy latte and move on with my day.”

Caleb smiles back, and there’s a kind of understanding in his face that’s nowhere near the realm of pity, and it makes something hard and guarded uncoil in Molly’s chest. “Well, if you’d like, you are always welcome to call me, too. I would be happy to join you for a fancy latte, provided I am not at school. And I assure you, Molly, you are impossible to look past, at least to me.”

“Thank you,” Molly says, much softer than he means to, but by the smile on his face Caleb has no trouble hearing just how much it means to him.

He leans in and bumps his shoulder against Caleb’s. “Go ahead and pick something out,” he says, passing the remote over as a handoff to a less emotional moment. “Do you see my glasses around here? I left them this morning but I do want them to watch—”

A soft, quick kiss to his cheek takes him completely by surprise. Instantly he can feel his face heat up and his tail shoot up high behind his back. Caleb just smiles at him and holds out the battered frames.

“Have you seen The Good Place yet?”

Molly opens his mouth, then closes it. His cheeks are still very warm, and ache just a bit from the smile he can’t even try to repress. He just shakes his head, and slides his glasses on as Caleb pulls the show’s first episode up.

Despite the show’s humor and a delightfully compelling dirtbag of a main character, once Molly’s lunch is gone his exhaustion starts to creep back in. He tries to stay awake and engaged, he really does, but the warmth and noise and contentment gets to him in the end.

When he drags his eyes open again, everything looks different from when he fell asleep what feels like seconds ago. Molly squints at the TV, realizing after a bleary moment that Caleb must have removed his glasses without him noticing. The screen is all soft blue colors now, and there’s a very quiet voice with a Tal’Dorei accent in the background. He’s also looking at the TV sideways, and there’s a gentle, repetitive hand brushing through his hair that nearly lulls him right back to sleep. 

Caleb really does have wonderful hands. That happy wiggling feeling is back in his stomach.

“S’rry I fell asleep on you,” Molly mumbles. “Didn’t mean to.”

“It’s quite alright, Mollymauk.” He hears a faint edge of amusement in Caleb’s voice, but mostly that quiet fondness. He wonders briefly if that same expression from earlier is on Caleb’s face again, and then realizes that there’s nothing stopping him from looking. He and Caleb are… something. Getting close to something. But Caleb is here, he offered and he stayed and his fingers are still tangled loosely in Molly’s hair and he let Molly fall asleep on his lap and surely there’s no reason to be afraid of scaring him off now if he turns to look. 

So he shuffles over onto his back, and Caleb smiles down at him. “Hi,” Molly says, his chest tight and full of sunshine.

“ _Hallo_ , Molly,” Caleb says back. He resettles his hand against Molly’s cheek, so light as though he’s afraid it won’t be welcome. Molly raises his own hand and covers Caleb’s, pressing his warm palm against the vibrant feathers of his tattoo. The warm smile and pink blush both deepen across Caleb’s face.

Something hangs in the air between them, a kind of tension that Molly truly has no idea how to push or pull to its conclusion. It makes him breathless in such a new way; it feels sweet and light like spun sugar. He almost feels like he’s shaking with the way he thrums under Caleb’s touch, but there’s also security with Caleb, the kind of safety that comes from knowing he’ll be caught.

It’s Caleb, in the end, who tips the delicate balance they hang in. “Molly,” he says softly, “would it be alright if I kissed you?”

_Oh._ Delight leaps in Molly’s throat. _That’s what this is. Of course._ “Yeah,” he breathes, utterly not enough but he’s still smiling almost too hard as Caleb leans down and kisses him.

It feels _so nice_ , a little tremulous and clumsy but sweet, before Molly tilts his head just a bit and they fit together perfectly. Caleb’s lips slide against his, just barely parted, slow and exploring. Molly reaches blindly up, slides his hand into Caleb’s hair and holds him close. There’s a moment of swift breaths, a soft sigh quickly captured in the warmth of a second kiss. Caleb’s thumb brushes along Molly’s cheek, noses nudging together as they adjust and breathe.

“Okay?” Molly says, and it only comes out in a whisper in the scant inch between them. He loosens his hand from Caleb’s hair, then brushes a wayward lock back behind his ear. 

“More than okay,” Caleb replies, and it’s wonderful to hear his voice is just as shaky and joyful as Molly feels. Molly pushes himself up and captures his mouth again, and again, and again. He’s not sure which of them deepens this kiss this time, just knows the delight that comes with the delicate first touch of Caleb’s tongue, and the sweet excitement that builds as he returns it. Caleb is _good_ at this, or perhaps they just fit together so well. Molly likes the idea of that very much. 

At last, Caleb draws back further to really catch his breath, and Molly has room to beam up at him properly. “Definitely more than okay,” he says, and a giddy, breathless laugh breaks out of him.

Caleb leans back to let Molly sit up. “I’m very glad,” he says, reaching out to take Molly’s hands. “So… does this mean we are… boyfriends? Do you like boyfriend, is there a better word? Is it all right to… am I rushing to that?”

Molly threads his fingers between Caleb’s and gives him a little squeeze. There’s too much joy in him right now to hold still, and he’s even more delighted to feel Caleb squeeze back. “Boyfriends is good. Really good. I like the sound of _partner_ , too, but don’t worry about that, I’ll like anything you call me as long as you can call me yours.”

The way Caleb looks at him steals away what little breath Molly has managed to catch. He leans in for another kiss, just because he can, and because words are necessary but at the moment he simply can’t grasp any that feel like _enough_ for everything he’s feeling. Caleb kisses him back immediately, and for a moment Molly just lets himself get lost trading kisses with his boyfriend. It’s been some time since he kissed anybody, and he can’t remember a time when it ever felt like this, soft but heady, comfortable but electrifying. This is new to him. Caleb is _special_ , and it’s terrifying and wonderful as all of Molly’s favorite things are. 

They should talk things over, though. Reluctantly, Molly breaks their latest kiss and leans his forehead against Caleb’s. “I think it’s a good idea to keep taking this slow,” he says, a little bit breathless. “I don’t… I don’t have a lot of experience with this, really, Yasha and I have our relationship but that’s really been it for me. I think—I mean, fuck, Caleb, I already like you almost more than I know what to do with, and I want this to last. I’m happy to feel this out as we go along.” He brings their entwined hands up to his lips and kisses them. “We’ve got time.”

“I agree,” Caleb says softly, giving Molly’s hands a squeeze. It’s delightful to watch that blush come back across his face, and know that it’s a good blush and he’s the cause of it. “I, ah… with that in mind, Molly, I do not want you to feel as though I am imposing, or rushing into anything, but I wondered… you looked so peaceful, earlier, when you were asleep, and I wondered if it would be alright if I stayed. Or if that is too much. I can also go home and, but you can call me if you want, and perhaps we could keep talking—”

“Caleb,” Molly interrupts. He leans forward and kisses the very corner of Caleb’s mouth, just because he can. “It’s late. I’d love it if you stayed over. We can take it slow, and just fall asleep together, and in the morning I’ll take you out for a fancy coffee, yeah?”

“That sounds nice,” Caleb breathes, and he looks a little overwhelmed but if Molly were to guess, he’d say it’s the same kind of happy overwhelmed that’s filling his own head with fireflies. He trusts that Caleb would tell him if it were different. He knows that he feels safe enough with Caleb to tell him in return. 

Molly smiles and stands up, pulling Caleb with him by the hand. “Come on, I’ll lend you some pajamas—they all have holes for my tail, but they’ll fit you.”

There’s something between awkward and comfortable they are with each other that’s simply _fun_. They dance around each other in a way that would be normal in the curiosity shop, but they’re here in Molly’s bedroom instead. The glances they trade still result in smiles just as they would over a cup of coffee or as Molly handed Caleb a weird book from the shop’s attic, but now they happen as they change into pajamas, as Molly hands Caleb a spare toothbrush. 

As Molly turns out the lights and lets his vision adjust to the dark, he takes a moment to appreciate how well Caleb _fits_ here. The bedroom is a little more calm in its décor than the front of Molly and Yasha’s apartment, with a soft blue bedspread and the familiar detritus of their daily lives scattered across the top of a secondhand dresser. There’s just enough light from the gentle glow of Molly’s fairy lights to make out the auburn in Caleb’s hair against the heather-grey pillowcases. Molly wants to take a picture, maybe send it to Yasha with a string of unintelligible letters and probably a bunch of heart emojis because he can’t even begin to conjure words for how he feels seeing Caleb get comfortable here with him. Now’s not the time of course, but maybe soon Caleb will let him take a sweet picture of the two of them to save for himself.

For now, Molly scoots under the sheets and wiggles his pillow into place around his horns. There’s a bit of room left between him and Caleb, but the warmth of another person, the sound of Caleb’s breathing and the knowledge that he cares for Caleb and is cared for in return, settles over Molly like the most comfortable blanket in the world. 

“You good?” he whispers. He’s torn between wanting to stay awake, to gaze his fill of Caleb in his bed under the glow of his lights, and succumbing quickly to the same sense of security and sleepiness that led to him napping on Caleb before. 

“ _Alles gut_ ,” Caleb whispers back. There’s a quiet rustling, and then the very tips of Caleb’s fingers brush lightly against Molly’s arm. “It’s quite alright if you wish to, ah, cuddle, by the way. I am… I like it. When it’s you.”

Molly smiles wide in the dark. For just a moment he looks at Caleb, soaking in the small smile on his lips, the peace that settles in the soft shadows on his face. “I will take you up on that. You may have noticed I’m a snuggler.” Slowly, giving Caleb plenty of time to change his mind or pull away, he scoots and wiggles his way into the ideal little spoon position. His tail loops happily around Caleb’s knee, and he hears a soft chuckle as he lets out a pleased sigh. Caleb’s arm comes up around him until it drapes carefully over the dip of his waist.

“Is this alright? Just poke me if you get uncomfortable, I promise it’s alright. And if I wiggle it’s nothing personal, I’m just a restless sleeper sometimes. And—”

“Molly. _Schatz_ , this is alright.” Caleb’s arm tightens a little bit, bringing Molly’s back up against the warmth of his chest. Molly could start purring any second now. He has no idea if he does that in his sleep, but tonight would certainly be a night to find out. “ _Guten nacht,_ Molly,” he hears, quiet Zemnian words that he knows by now from the times Caleb has wished him a good night as he closes up shop. He loves hearing it like this even more. He wants to learn all kinds of things that Caleb wants to say in his mother tongue. 

“Good night, Caleb,” he whispers back. He can’t fight the pull of sleep much longer, but as long as he is awake he savors the gentle rise and fall of Caleb’s chest at his back, the warmth of his presence, the glow of happiness in his chest when he thinks of how he’ll greet his boyfriend with a kiss in the morning.

The two of them drift to sleep with moonlight sprawling softly across the floor, and the quiet sound of purring in the night.


End file.
